


Sharing is Caring

by Twisted_Mind



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Multi, POV Stiles, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: Chris notices his incredulous expression and huffs, frustrated. “Stiles, the only way the three of us are going to avoid freezing to death is by sharing body heat and keeping this fire going. Peter’s the only one of us who might stand a chance on his own, and as it is, his higher body temp is probably what’ll keep us alive.”





	Sharing is Caring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DiscontentedWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscontentedWinter/gifts).



> Thanks to Pantoffel and SlasherFiend for help with conceptual development, and thank you to BelleAmante for cheerleading and giving the ending a green light! 
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS, WINTER!

 

 

By the time they stumble inside the terrifyingly-small log cabin, Stiles can’t feel anything below his knees. It’s fine. “Why couldn’ th’fucker’ve run to Florida?” he grumbles.

Peter quirks an eyebrow at him. “Because it’s smarter than Derek, and knew having to cross an international border would slow us down?”

“Is that any way to talk about your nephew?” Chris asks, exasperated.

Peter shrugs. “It’s how I show affection.”

Stiles opens his mouth, but closes it without saying anything, because that might actually be true. Also, there are more important things to worry about right now. “How long are we gonna be cooped up here?”

Chris looks over from the corner where he’s crouching in front of an ancient-looking woodstove. “It’s Manitoba, Stiles. That blizzard isn’t stopping anytime soon, and we’ll probably be snowed in until at least tomorrow.”

His jaw drops. “You’re kidding, right? Peter, tell me he’s kidding.” The last thing he wants is to be stuck in an unheated, one-room cabin for God knows how long with these two.

But, because it’s Peter, his hopes and dreams are dashed. “He isn’t. The best thing for us to do right now is get out of our wet gear and get in bed.”

“It’s 4:30,” he blurts.  

Peter gives him the _you’re smarter than this_ look. “Hypothermia doesn’t run on a schedule.” He turns to Chris. “How’s it coming?”

Chris tilts his head, but doesn’t turn around. “Few more minutes and it should be going properly.”

“Alright. Then I’m going to the SUV and getting our supplies. The last thing we need is the bottled water undrinkable because it’s frozen solid.”

“There should be some extra blankets in the trunk.”

Peter nods. “I’ll bring those in, too.”

Stiles fights the building irritation, because there’s nothing he hates more than feeling useless. “And what should I be doing?”

“Taking your stuff off and getting into bed,” Chris repeats. “Peter and I will be joining you in a few minutes anyway.”

And just. _What_? He’s so cold he’s numb, and wherever he’s not numb, it hurts, and he wonders if hypothermia has already set in and is messing with his ability to think. It seems likely.

Chris notices his incredulous expression and huffs, frustrated. “Stiles, the only way the three of us are going to avoid freezing to death is by sharing body heat and keeping this fire going. Peter’s the only one of us who might stand a chance on his own, and as it is, his higher body temp is probably what’ll keep us alive.”

Stiles is spared having to respond to that by Peter coming back from the car. “You’ve always wanted my body, Christopher. Promise me you’ll at least _try_ to keep your hands to yourself?”  

Stiles stops paying attention after that, fumbling to get his coat off with stiff, clumsy fingers. He’s kinda grateful it’s so cold, or the mental image of Chris putting his hands on Peter might make him pop the awkwardest boner ever. As it is, he just feels a distant twinge of arousal.

When he’s out of his winter gear, he peels out of his jeans, because sleeping in denim is no, and shrugs out of his hoodie, too. He heads toward the bed, but is stopped by Peter’s hands just above his hips. They feel like they’re burning him through his shirts. “It should all come off, sweetheart. Skin to skin is the best way to share body heat.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother trying to fight Peter’s hold. It’s pointless and he knows it. “Ha ha, very funny, creeper.”

“He’s right, Stiles.”

When he turns, he sees Chris stripping unselfconsciously and he has to look away. He clears his throat. “So, less is more, huh?”

Peter noses at the back of his neck, the handsy weirdo. “Essentially.”

And, well. That sucks, but he’s pretty sure that neither of them will be too awful about his inevitable erection. They’re dudes, so statistically they must have dealt with an ill-timed pup tent at least once or twice. He focusses on that as he strips out of his socks and shirts before sliding under the blankets.

Peter, of course, gives him a raised eyebrow. “What part of ‘you should be naked’ did you fail to grasp?”

“I’m n-naked enough, you d-d-dick.” His teeth are chattering, and he’s starting to shiver—as cold as he was without his coat or jeans, the sheets he’s under are freezing.

Peter tuts, but starts shucking his clothes as Chris gets in with him, hissing at the touch of cold cotton. “C’mere, Stiles.”

“N-n-n-n,” he stutters. Because yeah, Chris might be warm, but he is also ten times hotter than any dude in his forties has any right to be, and if Stiles presses up against all of that he’ll probably pop wood, and then he’ll never be able to look Allison in the eye again.

Peter sighs, “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” before climbing onto the bed. But rather than slide in next to Chris and minimize the awkward, he gets in the far edge, by the wall, so he can shove Stiles into the middle before plastering his naked, boundary-challenged self against Stiles’s back.

His flailing is useless, because even if Peter wasn’t a werewolf, Chris is hella strong for a human, and latches onto him as soon as he’s in grabbing distance. But he flails anyway. “Oh my god, _why_?!”

“Because you need the warmth right now more than anyone else,” Chris says.

Stiles ignores the part where dude might have a point, and also the part where their warm skin pressed against him actually feels really, really good. “You’re human too!”

He’s treated to an up-close Argent glare. Weirdly, it’s less scary from this distance. “I’m not the one on medication that causes circulatory problems as a side-effect.”

And, well. That’s the point where he gives up. Because, honestly, there’s no good rebuttal to that, and he’s feeling kinda tired now that he’s heading towards being warm. He doesn’t expect Peter to start rubbing soft circles over his stomach, but that’s what happens.

“It’s okay, darling. You can sleep. Chris and I aren’t going anywhere.”

“Don’ need y’r permission,” he grumbles, but he’s complaining for the sake of it. Peter chuckles against the back of his neck, and it’s the last thing he notices as he drifts off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: ADHD medication can cause circulatory issues--cold hands and feet, etc.--which would put Stiles at greater risk of frostnip and frostbite than Chris.
> 
> Also: I [Tumbl](https://queerfictionwriter.tumblr.com/).


End file.
